


Many Ways Home

by Liminal_Space_LLC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, First Kiss, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, If you are still pissed about the Subban trade, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, NHL Player Chris "Chowder" Chow, NHL Player Derek "Nursey" Nurse, NHL-typical racism, Stanley Cup Playoffs, this fic is for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liminal_Space_LLC/pseuds/Liminal_Space_LLC
Summary: Derek Nurse is new to the San Jose Sharks. After leaving the Montreal Canadiens in bad blood, Derek fears that he might never find his place in the NHL. That is, until a sweet goalie named Chris Chow welcomes him into the Sharks and takes him under his wing.Derek and Chris are going to go down in history as one of the the great hockey bromances of all time - as long as Derek can keep his feelings in check. Because hockey is hard, but loving Chris Chow is just about the easiest thing in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My other Valentine for corgiberus :) It was too long for the exchange, but it's still for you!
> 
> Also, happy Nurseyweek!!! Love that crazy kid.
> 
>  
> 
> Content warnings in end notes.

On Derek’s last day with the Canadiens, he didn’t feel anything. He had some meetings—with the coaches, with his captain, with the GM. They were all bullshit, but the meeting with the GM was a pretty special brand of bullshit. Most players didn’t talk to the General Manager on the last day of their tenure. He supposed that if you break all your promises and completely fuck a person over all in the space of one trade, you probably have some guilt that needs assuaging.

Derek did not assuage anyone’s guilt. He stared every single one of those bastards in the eye, and he did not absolve them of anything.

The only moment that he had a sliver of feeling was when he ran into Monsieur Toussaint, a Haitian man who was one of the arena’s building managers. He looked at Derek sadly.

“We’ll miss you, _timoun_.”

“Thanks, _Monsieur_. I’m gonna miss this place.”

Toussaint put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“We’re so proud of you. Every black kid in Montreal is going to love you forever.”

It was as if he had seen exactly the part of Derek that was most tender and touched it. Derek couldn’t say anything. His throat was tight. He nodded instead.

Toussaint gave him a small smile. They shook hands. Before they parted, M. Toussaint looked into his eyes and said, as if in blessing, “ _Bon chans nan San Jose_.”

Luck. Derek would need all the luck in the world.

Derek was glad that M. Toussaint knew the score. Maybe that meant other people knew, too. Then they wouldn’t get their hopes up.

***

It was strange to be in a hotel room alone. Derek had traveled exclusively with the team or with family for years now. There was nothing to make it friendly or familiar, just sheets tucked inhumanly neat and a minibar of junk he couldn’t eat.

He put his luggage on a rack and stared at it, willing himself to unpack. He was going to be here for at least a few days. He should hang his suits, or else they would wrinkle.

He called his sister instead. They’d texted that morning, after the trade was announced, but she never minded hearing from him.

“Hey baby brother, how’s it going?” He could tell Gia was trying to be nice, and that was kind of awful.

“I am incandescent with joy.”

“Yeah? That’s not very energy efficient. Did you know that compact fluorescent bulbs last ten times as long while—”

“Oh my God, would you shut up? I am in fucking pain.”

“You said you were joyful. Joyful people like jokes.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, well, then you shouldn’t have called me. Now, you’re in pain? Please discuss.”

“You’re a nerd. Have I told you that?”

She didn’t answer, and he knew she wasn’t going to talk until she got an answer. The trouble with big sisters was sometimes they pulled mom moves on you, and you were rendered completely helpless.

“I can’t even unpack my damn suitcase.”

“You can do it tomorrow.”

“I know, but if I can’t unpack a suitcase, how am I supposed to show up to practice acting like I’m jazzed to be there?”

“Hmm.”

“And if I don’t, they’ll say I’m having ‘character issues’ from day fucking one. Then I’ll get traded before the offseason is an hour old.”

“Derek, no. Those racist fucks didn’t deserve you, and they were stupid to let you go. Give the San Jose guys a chance to love you. They will. I can feel it.”

He’d given Montreal so many chances. He’d grinned on his worst days and given his whole soul to that team. If it didn’t work then, why would it work now?

Gia broke the silence. “Come on, open your suitcase.”

She talked him through unpacking and putting away all the clothes he’d brought, instructing him what to take out next and telling him about her trials at the lab in between instructions. It was nice—exactly the thing she would have done if she were there.

By the time he finished, he was exhausted in Montreal time.

“Gia, I am going to die if I keep talking. I gotta say goodbye.”

“Drama queen. Good night.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too. Tomorrow is going to be fine. They will adore you. I promise.”

“Did I mention I need to sleep?”

“Good night, brat.”

***

Next morning, the walk from the hotel to the rink was gorgeous. Derek had never lived in a city where the leaves stayed on the trees year-round, and seeing green trees in the cool morning touched an old feeling deep in his chest. It was as if he were going back to grade school again. The newness of fall, as summer ended and cool weather came. The promise of a fresh start and a new challenge. He could almost smell erasers and pencil shavings.

A sudden swell of feeling hit him so strong, his eyes stung. Impulsively, he went into a paper goods shop and bought a new notebook and a pack of cheap pens. Somehow, he thought he might need them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Mentions of racism and racist incidents
> 
> Sadness, but also hope!
> 
> Also, do other people get really happy in September/October, or is that just me? That's when school is still fun, before the sleep deprivation really catches up to you.
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you have thoughts or feelings or reaction gifs for me, I'm also nerdmetamorphosis on [Tumblr](https://nerdmetamorphosis.tumblr.com) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/nerdmetamorphosis)
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're gonna meet Chris!!! And THE TEAM!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings today!

Derek planned to arrive at his first Sharks’ practice early, but not too early. Enter the rink without being noticed, get there when only a couple guys had started dressing, and generally avoid making himself into a “thing.” That was how guys usually arrived successfully to the Canadiens locker room.

Fate had other plans. He was creeping around the parking lot when someone behind him said brightly, “Hey, Derek Nurse, right?”

He whipped around to see an East Asian man grinning like Derek had personally made his day. Derek stared at the guy for a long, awkward moment before recognizing him. “Chris Chow?

“Yeah! Sorry for sneaking up on you first thing in the morning! I just wondered if you’d like a tour of the stadium before practice starts?!”

“Oh. Um, that would be awesome. Thanks.”

“No worries! Gotta make sure you have a good first impression of the team! We’re so excited to have you here!”

Chris Chow practically skipped as he guided Derek through the arena. He explained everything from team spa days to equipment replacement protocol with equal gusto. All the while, he kept up a running dialogue about how great Derek was as a player and how he hoped Derek would like San Jose.

He occasionally asked Derek questions about himself, and Derek managed to answer, but just barely. This was so completely opposite of how Derek had thought this day would go, he felt kind of overwhelmed. But it didn’t seem to bother Chris Chow that Derek could hardly put two words together. He just pressed on happily.

The strangeness got even stranger when Chris brought him to the dressing rooms. Chris burst in, calling out, “Hey guys! Look who just arrived!”

The whole team was there, casually pulling on gear and doing stretches. At Chris’s voice, they all turned. For a moment, Derek thought his worst nightmares were coming true: immediate group rejection.

But they were all smiling fondly at him, as if he were an old friend they’d been missing. They called out welcomes and good-natured chirps. Derek wondered if he was dreaming.

“Already give him the tour, Chowder?” a short blonde guy asked, grinning.

“Of course! No more lost new guys. I cannot break my vow to Sharkie!”

The room laughed fondly then returned to their stretches. Chris led Derek through the crowd into the corner, where the goalie stalls and skater stalls met, and showed Derek the empty spot next Chris’s own gear where Derek would sit.

They started changing for practice, and before Derek even knew it he’d been drawn into a ridiculous conversation about whether Pringles were actually potato chips. Derek came down hard on the side of “no,” but William Poindexter was unconvinced.

It was bizarre how normal it felt, chatting with these guys he just met. He accidentally chirped Connor Whisk, and the guy didn’t even blink an eye. Like they’d known each other for years. It wasn’t until Chris asked Derek about his junior team and everyone leaned in to listen that he realized what had happened.

Derek was basking in the glow of Chris Chow. For some reason, Chris had decided to share his effervescent light with him, Derek Nurse, making him brighter and funnier and more likable to everyone around him.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he hoped selfishly that it would last. Having his team want him was a nice feeling.

***

On the day all of Derek’s boxes arrived at his new apartment, Chris Chow showed up in work boots without warning and asked how he could help.

“Chris, you know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Derek, you’re my teammate! Whether I have to do it is irrelevant. Now, I’m going to text the group chat and get the useful guys to come help!”

Within the hour, five San Jose Sharks had shown up at his door—Will Poindexter, Connor Whisk, Eric Bittle, Adam Birkholtz, and Justin Oluransi, the other black guy on the team—and they were all claiming boxes to unpack.

Derek had thought he’d probably spend the whole weekend getting his apartment mildly habitable, but by late afternoon almost everything he owned was neatly situated and organized.

Will had assembled all his furniture. Connor had displayed all his hockey paraphernalia in an attractive-but-not-too-obnoxious way. Eric had done up Derek’s kitchen with a next-level organizing scheme. Adam had set up his entertainment system. Justin had organized his clothes by season, style, and color.

Then, just as quickly as they came, one by one the guys clapped him on the back and slipped out, until Derek and Chris were left alone in the apartment again. Derek felt slightly winded.

“That was crazy,” he said to the air.

Chris clapped his hand to his mouth. “I overdid it! I shouldn’t have called them! I’m so sorry! That was hella invasive!”

“No, no! It was nice! I just, didn’t expect it.”

“Are you sure? Because I do that sometimes. Go overboard.” Chris was biting his lip nervously, and it was kind of adorable.

“No, no, you are totally fine.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Come on, I have a few boxes left, if you want to finish the job. I’ll make tea.”

“That sounds incredible!”

With a pot of green tea between them and a Dizzy Gillespie record on, Derek and Chris worked through the nonessential boxes. Chris was very patient as Derek made him hold innumerable things up to the wall to see if they worked well in the space, and Derek took great pleasure in watching the plain white walls fill with rich color.

Finally, they opened a box filled only with books.

“Sorry, Chris, I don’t think you can help me with this stuff. It will take me forever to figure out how to organize these.”

Chris didn’t seem to be listening. “You like poetry?” Chris was staring at the books on top, which were mostly poetry anthologies.

 “Um, yeah?” Derek swallowed. Maybe he’d misread this guy entirely. “Does that bother you?”

“No, no! I’ve just, never met another guy in the NHL who read poetry.” Derek thought Chris might be blushing. “I took a poetry class in college, and it was really cool! But it was just a survey course. And, like, I’ve always kind of wanted to read more, but I didn’t really know how?!”

“I can lend you some good ones, if you like.”

“That would be the greatest thing ever! Thank you!”

Derek started pulling out books. “Try this one. It’s really good, but you don’t need a PhD in English to get something out of it.”

“Wow! I promise I’ll be nice to it.”

Derek watched Chris as he paged through the book with genuine excitement, and Derek’s heart felt soft and full. He was pretty sure he’d found a friend. If he weren’t so tired from moving boxes, he would’ve danced.

***

Derek came in early on his birthday to see the team chiropractor. He stopped by the changing rooms first, to see if he’d left a pack of gum in there. He liked chewing gum when he saw the chiropractor—it made the strange cracks and twists a touch less terrifying.

When he got in, he found his stall papered in pink and red hearts. There were “valentines” from every guy on the team, and some of their kids—he’d been a big hit at the winter skate. Most of them were just chirps in the format of a valentine. Each of them was handwritten, even the one that just said, “ _Hello_ Nurse.”

He stared at them for a full fifteen minutes, reading them over and over again, until his phone alarm went off and he had to sprint to the chiropractor.

When the rest of the team arrived, he walked in and pretended to be surprised. They made him read them aloud while they all cackled at their cleverness and excitedly told him who did which one.

Derek left the hearts up in his stall for a few days, just so everyone could enjoy them. When the week was over, he carefully pulled the tape off of the delicate construction paper pieces and wrote on the back of each one who gave it to him.

He kept them in a jar in his room. Just looking the stack of little hearts made him feel warm inside, and on bad days he liked to pull the hearts out and read them again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening! I love friendship.
> 
> If you are curious what "Hello Nurse" is about, it's a joke from The Animaniacs, a wacky cartoon from the 90s - Holster's just saying Nursey is sexy ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is about fEeLiNgS. I mean, they're all about feelings. But this one is were we start in on the f e e l i n g s.
> 
> See end notes for content warnings.

Chris Chow was generous with his light. He shared it constantly. Derek watched in awe as people around Chris bloomed like daylilies in the sun. He gave a little bit of himself to every person he met—teammates, fans, PR interns—and it made them shine.

But Derek liked best when Chris had his light all to himself. When Chris put away the social butterfly and relaxed, he was simply the loveliest person Derek had ever known.

Chris liked to show up at Derek’s apartment with ten minutes’ notice and ask him about poems. He’d bounce around like a hummingbird, asking questions about this poem or that and listening to Derek’s answers with the intense, focused expression he got in the net. Then, when Derek asked him questions back, he’d lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling, picking through his thoughts in a cautious stream of consciousness.

“I guess I think…all this nature stuff. I think I don’t get it.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I know what she’s saying? Like, if I take a minute, I can draw it in my head and figure it out. But it’s not like I went hiking a lot as a kid, so it’s sort of like…I dunno? Theoretical? I’ve never seen a marsh hawk, and I don’t know if a marsh hawk ‘merely lays his breast upon the air’. I just feel like I’m missing something I should be getting out of that.”

“Hmm. But you liked Whitman?”

“Well. That was…different.”

Chris asked once, while flopped on Derek’s couch, “How do you know so much poetry stuff if you didn’t go to college?!”

“My mom, mostly. And I was really into poetry in high school.”

“Did you write poetry?”

“A little. It wasn’t good.”

“Is that what you would’ve done, if you went to college? Poetry?”

“I dunno. I don’t know how you’re supposed to decide that kind of thing. Why did you decide to study computers?”

“Very employable. If the NHL didn’t work out, my dad could probably help me get a job.”

“Shameless.”

“Yeah.”

“Were you good at it?”

“Pretty good.” Chris had that shy smile he got whenever someone made him talk about how good he was.

Derek had to look away. Sometimes, Chris Chow shone so brightly you couldn’t bear to look at him.

***

Chris found him sitting in the arena seats before the game.

“This is kind of dramatic. Even for you. You okay?”

Derek shrugged. He didn’t really know how he felt. He just knew he didn’t want to feel it in front of everyone in the cardio room.

“Is it about Montreal?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel bad about playing against them?”

“I kind of wish I did.”

“Okay.” Chris sat down next to him, watching carefully. “What happened there?” He asked as though he’d been thinking about that question for a long time.

Derek examined Chris’s face. He was so sincere. So open. Justin loved this guy. He trusted this guy. He’d said he would take Chris with him into the Zombie Apocalypse, which was an oddly serious thing for Justin.

“Did you hear the rumors?”

“I heard a few.”

“Well, the ones about me having ‘character issues’—” He swallowed and looked out over the ice.

“I know those ones aren’t true. You’re an incredible teammate.”

“But they kind of were true. I did not fit in on the Habs.”

“Somehow, I really doubt it was your fault.” There was a steely tone in Chris’s voice.

Derek looked at him. He’d never seen Chris angry outside of a hockey game. It was strange. “Yeah? How would you know?”

“Derek, I know what Richards and Murkowski and Davidson are. I’ve heard them on the ice. Davidson used to park right in front of me and say the most disgusting shit. And I wasn’t the only one.”

“And you got him to stop?”

“Remember that time a couple years ago when Holster beat his ass three times in the same game?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, that made him shut up.”

Derek swallowed and looked at his knees. He felt ashamed all over again. “Fuck. I didn’t even know about that stuff.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how. I guess they just never let me hear it? And they’d get angry every time someone pulled racist shit on me.”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah. It was so weird with them. Those three—Rich, Murky, and Video—they’re like, totally the social leaders in Montreal. And I never knew where I stood with them. Sometimes it would feel like they were my friends, and I was totally in the group. And sometimes it was like everyone was telling a joke I didn’t get.”

“What a mindfuck.” Chris leaned in so their shoulders were pressing together.

“Then they started saying I had character issues, and it was just downhill from there.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

Derek’s voice began to shake. “And I have so many genuinely good memories with those guys. We went on so many roadies. We went to the conference final together. But now all those memories are tainted, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Was I really friends with any of them? Were they all in on the game?” His voice broke. His chest felt heavy and horrible.

Chris’s arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He was warm. “Your friendship is not a game.” His voice was so tender.

Derek closed his eyes. His nose stung from trying not to cry.

They sat like that for a long time. Derek cried a little. Chris just squeezed him tighter.

When Derek had his act together a little more, Chris asked, “Why do you wish you felt bad?”

“I dunno. Some of them have been texting me, saying they miss me and that the captains did me wrong.”

“Do you believe them?

“I want to. But why didn’t they say anything?”

The San Jose Barracudas, the Sharks’s AHL team, started skating out for warm ups. Derek watched their defensemen do the exact same edge exercises that he did before games.

“Derek, I don’t think you should feel bad.” Chris’s eyes were burning with feeling. “And you definitely don’t have to feel bad for not feeling bad. You feel however you want to feel. And you forgive people in your own time.”

“Okay.” Derek felt like he’d taken a shot of fireball. He was warm down to his toes.

Chris smiled. “Come on.” He tugged Derek up to his feet. “Let’s get sushi from that ridiculously expensive Japanese place you like.”

Derek chuckled wetly. “You read my mind.”

***

Since he’d gotten the notebook on his first day in San Jose, Derek had mostly been writing little quotes and notes in it. One page had a birthday heart taped in, and another had a photo strip from the day the team went to Disney. Nothing big. It had been a little while since he kept a journal, and he was easing himself back into it

The morning after Chris’s shutout against Montreal and the team’s celebration rager, though, he found his first ever real diary entry in the notebook. He didn’t remember writing it, but it looked as though his drunken self had been very excited about something. Reading it made his hangover headache throb.

_Chris got a shutout against the Habs!!! It was the SEXIEST thing I have ever seen. Blockd 42 shots. It was fucking AMAZING. One of them was this amazing flippy thing – he was INCREDABLE. wow wow wow wow wow wow_

_Chris is so good at hockey. And he has such pretty eyes. And he gives the best hugs ever. I want to just curl up next to him on the couch and stay their 4EVER. Then suck his dick or something._

_Gotta puke!_

Derek groaned. What an undignified way to find out he had a crush on a teammate. He needed a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Conversation about past racist acts including hate speech and gaslighting. Alcohol use. Mention of oral sex.
> 
> **************************
> 
> I love these boys so much. Such sweet idiots.
> 
> If you are curious, the poem they're talking about is "The Marsh Hawk" by Mary Oliver. Walt Whitman's poetry is a lot sexier and gayer than Mary Oliver's. Take that as you will :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaanngst. Also, I try to use 'eh' - wish me luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings at the end.

Derek’s crush on Chris was easy enough to ignore. Hockey culture, like hockey, was as much about defense as offense, and all the little giveaways got folded into their notorious bromance. If Derek ever looked too long or smiled too softly, well. It was just a symptom of being true teammates.

It sucked sometimes. When Chris did wonderful Chris things like stopping to give high fives to every single kid who came to watch their practice, Derek would feel a sweetness spread through him. Then a quiet, insistent yearning that lingered like perfume.

But Derek would rather keep Chris’s friendship than pursue a hopeless crush on a straight guy. So he tried to keep it under control, burying those feelings where they couldn’t hurt anyone.

Anyone but himself.

***

A bunch of the older guys were hanging out in Sierpinski’s basement, playing drunk _Smash_ on his enormous TV while the younger guys partied upstairs. Derek was stretched out over the comfiest couch he’d ever been on, the crown of his head bumping into Chris’s thigh. The guys were yelling and chatting, and Derek listened to their noise like music. He was cozy and warm and perfectly drunk.

He felt a poking feeling around his knees and saw Sierpinksi’s orange cat, Tumbles, climbing over his body. She treaded cautiously until she got to his stomach and curled up, a little orange ball of fluff on his tummy. He scratched her ears and felt a rumble against his belly. “Guys, guys, shut up, she’s _purring_.”

They all fell quiet and listened to Tumbles purr. Chris reached out and petted her. His hand bumped clumsily into Derek’s. “I gotta get a cat. Me’n’Mako gotta go to the shelter, so he can sniff ‘em. See which ones he likes.”

Justin sat up like he had a sudden revelation. “Guys, what if I got Sunny a cat for our anniversary? She loves cats.”

Connor scoffed. “You can’t give someone a cat by surprise!”

“Why?”

“That’s how you get _irresponsible pet ownership_.” He stared at Justin threateningly.

“Oh. But then what should I do? Two years. It’s gotta be good, eh?”

Adam screwed up his face thoughtfully, “Take her to see a Giants game?”

“That’s what we did on our best friends anniversary.”

“Yeah. It was great.”

Without looking away from the screen, Eric suggested, “You should cook her favorite meal.”

Will grimaced. “Take her out to a restaurant. You’re a terrible cook, Rans.”

As more guys shouted out suggestions, Derek thought about his favorite moments in past relationships. Finally, he said, “I think you should, like, talk to each other. Have a really good conversation, y’know?”

“Damn, Nursey. That was deep.” Justin reached over and toggled his foot.

Adam shook his head. “You can’t just _talk_ to someone for your anniversary. Chris what do you think? You’re good at this.”

Above Derek’s head, Chris was staring into the distance. They all waited quietly for him to speak. “Okay, whattabout this: every day the week before your anniversary, you write her a letter about how you love her SO MUCH. Then, the night _before_ your anniversary you go out for a hella nice dinner. Then in the morning you make her, like, breakfast in bed and jus’ hang out and play video games all day!”

“Wow, C, that’s amazing.” Justin had stars in his eyes.

“Wait, not done! You have to have another letter that you read aloud. To say how much you love her again.” Chris was grinning like a dog grins, pure and joyful.

Adam sniffled. “That was so beautiful.”

Connor said solemnly, “That was definitely beautiful, but that is kind of a lot for a two year anniversary. You’re not even married. Don’t want to freak her out.”

Adam countered that Chris’s suggestion was just right for a two-year anniversary, and the conversation went on, but Derek didn’t listen. Something inside him was burning painfully.

He could imagine just what it would be like, to find love letters in Chris’s hand every day, on his pillow or under his coffee. To curl up in Chris’s arms and listen to him say, “I love you” in a million exquisite ways. To love Chris back freely, without restraint, with every fiber of his being.

He had to close his eyes to keep from staring up at that lovely smile. Everything in him ached from holding still. It was a relief when the party was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: canon-typical alcohol use, queer emotional repression
> 
> ***************
> 
> Feelings. They are the worst, yeah?
> 
> Whiskey cares strongly about animals! Why? Because! I just think he does!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DOG!!! And more feelings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings at the end.

Chris and Mako arrived at Derek’s apartment early Monday morning. The moment Derek opened the door Mako tackled him and tried to climb him like a tree.

“Down, boy!” Chris said urgently, dragging Mako off Derek. “Thank you so much Derek. You are a life saver.”

“No problem. I love Mako, Mako values me as a source of treats and cuddles. It’s a good deal.”

The moment Chris let go, Mako bounced around the living room, sniffing everything, and knocking some books off a side table.

“Maybe we should dog-proof your place a little bit.”

“Do you have time?”

Chris checked his phone. “I’ve got thirty minutes!”

They went quickly from room to room, hiding anything that could get broken by an excited dog.

The last place to check was Derek’s bedroom, which had very little breakable stuff in it, so Derek just did a quick sweep. He stored his cologne in his dress then turned to say they were done, but Chris wasn’t looking at him. He was standing by the door, staring at something on Derek’s desk.

“Chris, you alright?”

“Oh, yeah! I just…are those the hearts we put in your locker?” He was touching the top of Derek’s jar of valentines.

“Yeah. I read them after losses sometimes. To cheer me up.”

“That’s really, really nice.” He kept staring at the jar, his mind seemingly a million miles away. “Just, so lovely.”

“Chris, your plane?”

“Oh, gosh, yes. I should go.”

Derek walked him to the door. “See you on Wednesday, right?”

“Yep! Wednesday!”

They hugged. Maybe Derek was just tired, but he thought it was a tighter hug than usual. And as Chris waved goodbye, there was something slightly off in his smile. But Derek was probably just projecting. It was early. They were tired.

Derek turned around to see Mako snoozing on the couch and decided he’d take a leaf from Mako’s book.

***

Mako was the best dog in the world. He was big and fluffy, in cozy shades of brown and black and white. He immediately took to Derek’s apartment—he claimed a chair and a spot in Derek’s bed. He loved the pond in the park four blocks from Derek’s apartment, so now his daily run took a detour by the pond.

Mako did smell though. And by the time Wednesday came around, he was badly in need of a bath, and Derek was relieved to get Chris’s text, _tell my baby i’ll see him soon!!!_

Chris appeared in the doorway with a sleepy grin on his face. “Hey!”

Mako let out and enormous bark and tackled him to the ground, sending his duffle flying into the hallway.

“Hey baby! I missed you too! Gosh, Derek wasn’t kidding when he said you smelled bad!”

Derek jogged out to grab the duffel, and found a half-squashed bouquet of flowers underneath it. “Bro, do you have a date tonight or something?”

“Oh. Um, no.” Chris was sitting up again, carrying Mako on his hip. “They’re um, to say thank you. For taking care of Mako.”

Derek brushed his fingers over the soft petals. They were all pink and blue blossoms. “They’re beautiful.” He smelled them. They smelled like spring.

They were not flowers Derek would have gotten for a friend.

“They’re just airport flowers! Nothing special, really!” Chris was laughing anxiously. “Sorry, I went overboard again, didn’t I? I do that!”

“Chris, no—”

“I better go! Gotta give Mako that bath!” He grabbed the duffel from Derek’s hands and started jogging toward the elevator.

“Wait, what about his toys?!”

“Bring them to practice tomorrow!”

Then Chris was gone, and Derek was left standing in the hallway, alone.

He walked slowly back into his apartment. He didn’t own a vase, but he had a pitcher. He filled it with water from the sink and put his flowers in the middle of the kitchen.

They were so beautiful. They made the whole place softer and prettier.

They were the kind of flowers that you gave to someone you loved with a soft and pretty love, so they could look at your love all the time. That was how Derek would have given them. That was how Derek hoped someone would give those flowers to him.

Chris had given them to say thanks for watching his dog.

Derek had to put them in his guest bedroom. It hurt too much to look at them

***

After Mako went back to Chris’s apartment, Derek started to notice that there were whole days when he didn’t have a one-on-one conversation with Chris Chow. And Chris hadn’t spontaneously shown up at his place in a while. And they hardly ever went out for lunch after practice anymore.

He wondered if he was being oversensitive. Chris was busy, and he was probably focusing on his game more than his personal life right now. That was professional sports.

But there were other things. Chris looking away from him just a moment too soon. Using not quite as many emojis in their texts. Bro-hugging instead of actually hugging.

It felt as though they were separated by smoked glass. Chris always just out of sight and out of reach.

Maybe Chris just didn’t like Derek as much as he’d thought.  Maybe Chris wanted a more chill friendship. Maybe Derek’s reaction to the flowers had given away too much.

Yet, there were days when everything felt right. When the laughs came easy and time passed like it was nothing. After those days, Derek laid in bed wondering if his feelings for Chris made him want things he couldn’t have. If all the signs were in his head. If he was crazy.

If this was Montreal all over again.

***

The moment Derek stepped off the ice, he could feel the press of the Toronto media. Cameras were flashing in his face like he was a rock star, and he could distantly hear people screaming his name. He couldn’t help grinning. Toronto was a fun place to clinch their playoff spot.

He got pulled for media, and the questions were all the usual mindless stuff, except one:

“There were reports that you had some tension with your teammates in Montreal. How has your time with San Jose been, off the ice?”

He could see Olivia frowning over the hunched backs of the media. In his monthly PR meeting, he’d told her he didn’t like Montreal questions, and she’d made a point of keeping that out of his narrative.

Derek gave them the usual blather how great all his teams have been, until Olivia pulled him out. But something about that question stuck in his craw. It had touched something painful in his chest, like a muscle pulled too tight.

He didn’t realize what it was until the team got back to the hotel. Chris was already setting up to sleep, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Chris gave him a quick smile and kept digging through his bag. And suddenly Derek felt horribly, horribly empty. “Chris, can we talk?”

“Yeah? Give me a minute.” He ran to the bathroom, and Derek stared at the boring art on the wall. He had no idea which of the million thoughts in his head was the right thing to say.

Chris returned with minty breath.

“Chris, did I do something to make you mad?”

“No, of course not! Is—is something wrong?”

“You haven’t been coming over to my place, lately? And we don’t text on off days? I don’t know. It just feels, like, bad. Between us.”

Chris stared at him, eyes wide. When he finally spoke, it was in a whisper, “Oh, Derek. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” Chris crossed over to wrap Derek in his arms. He murmured into Derek’s shoulder, “This last little while I’ve been so stressed about the playoffs and the team and life stuff. I thought I was keeping it together! But I made you feel like I was mad at you! I’m so sorry, Derek. I’m so so sorry!”

Derek closed his eyes and squeezed Chris close. The empty feeling lingered. “We’re still friends?” He sounded painfully pathetic.

“Oh, Derek. God. Of course we’re still friends. We will always be friends! Always always always.”

Whenever someone got Chris emotional, it was hard to stop him going. He could talk for hours. Derek let him. He soaked it in like a sauna, chasing out the shaky, shivery ache in that had settled into his bones. He thought he could live like this forever, curled up in Chris Chow’s arms, listening to him talk about how important Derek was to him.

Then a knock came at the door. A young woman’s voice called, “Curfew!”

Chris laughed softly. “I don’t remember the last time I stayed up until curfew.”

Only when he was curled up under his covers did Derek remember he wanted to ask, “Hey, Chris. When you said you’ve been stressed about life stuff, what did you mean? You haven’t mentioned anything.”

Derek thought he could see Chris’s cheeks darken, even in the dim light. “Oh, um, well, y’know. My cousin’s been applying for college. It’s, uh, stressful. For all of us.”

“Oh, okay. Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Intense emotional distress, fear of homophobia and/or racism, growing distance between friends, media interview, mention of past racist incidents, intense discussion between friends about their friendship, college application mention
> 
> ***
> 
> For the record, Chris is not lying. He got thank you flowers for his best friend. Because Chris Chow is the sweetest and he goes with his instincts and sometimes his instincts are a couple steps ahead of his brain.
> 
> (He may be lying about other things, though.)
> 
> Also, Mako is named after the Mako Shark :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FEELINGS & GIA IS BACK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings in the end notes

The playoffs were brutal. That was the name of the game. But Derek had never been to the second round before. It was something else altogether.

Their first series, against the Ducks, had gone to six games, and he’d left each of them exhausted but electric. Playoff hockey was so fun with the Sharks. Every celly felt like the greatest moment of his life, and every time he was on the bench his lungs ached and he longed to get back out there.

Now, in game four against the Kings, the shine was starting to come off. Off the ice, his legs felt like they were made of lead. He spent his precious little free time doing nothing but watching TV and eating. And every hit from the first series felt like it was coming back to haunt him.

When Derek got hit in the third period, the coaches sent him out for concussion protocol. Then he realized the hit had made the shoulder bruise a Duck gave him flare up again.

So Derek was sitting on a raised bench with Ayo, one of the team’s specialists, gently probing his shoulder. After he did a few shoulder exercises, Ayo nodded. “Okay. You can go back out, but if it gets hit again, I need you to tell me.”

Derek nodded and sped back to the game. He was just jogging out of the tunnel when he heard a small, high voice call over the roar of the stadium, “Mr. Nurse! Mr. Nurse!”

In the stands to his left, there was a little black boy, maybe seven years old, waving a piece of paper at him through the railing. A grinning man who seemed to be his dad was holding him by the waist to keep him steady.

Derek smiled and reached up. The kid passed him the paper. “I drew a picture of us!!!”

He unfolded it, and in crayon there was drawn him in his Sharks gear and the boy in a matching uniform. It said at the bottom, “You are so cool! Tayvis, Age 6”.

Derek’s eyes stung with tears. His heart felt melting soft and the roar of the crowd sounded like music. He looked back up at the little boy. He was watching with a wide smile.

“Thank you!” he yelled back. “Wait a minute!”

He jogged over to the used stick rack and pulled out his stick from the first period. He found the pen the trainers used to mark used sticks and wrote, “To Tayvis, from Derek,” on the blade as fast as he could.

When he handed it to Tayvis, the kid’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “WOW!!! LOOK DADDY!!!”

The dad said something in his son’s ear. Derek couldn’t hear, but immediately Tayvis yelled, “Thank you, Mr. Nurse!”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Tayvis!”

The kid giggled, and Derek jogged back to the bench, feeling lighter than air.

***

Gia poured herself another cup of tea and Derek suddenly felt a warm, ceramic pressure on his forehead. “Do you mind if I leave this here?”

He opened his eyes to see her grinning wickedly down at him. “Joke’s on you, G. It feels nice.”

“Okay, Whatever then.” She set the cup aside and petted his hair gently.

He closed his eyes and focused on how cozy he was, under his weighted blanket, with Gia’s leg supporting his head and her fingers gently tugging his curls.

“It’s longer than it used to be.”

“Yeah. I wanna do something cool with it over the offseason.”

“You’ve already got plans for the summer? What? You?”

“It’s just my hair.”

“Still.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Derek couldn’t think of anything to say. He was still exhausted from playing the Kings. He’d thought having Gia here between series would help him be less of a couch potato, but after twelve playoff games he did not have the energy to do anything else.

“So…you want to talk about the last series?”

“Enh.”

“The next series?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“You want to hear about Amyloid-beta protein synthesis?”

“God, no.”

“Then you leave me no choice. You have to tell me about your personal life.”

“Drat. You brilliant fiend. I should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah, well. That’s why I make the big bucks and you’re stuck living in this dump. So, how’s the team?”

“Tired.”

“How’s Chris?”

“Exhausted. He just falls into bed every night.”

“Is everything, like, okay with you and him?”

“I think so?”

“Yeah? What’s that mean?”

“We’ve been hanging out more. And we talk a lot more.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I make him uncomfortable?”

“Are you being super obvious around him?”

“That’s what’s weird! It’s all stuff that we did before! Like, for example, whenever we watch TV together we always curl up together on his beanbag. But he seems to feel weird about sitting close together now? But when I ask, he says he’s fine with it! I don’t get it.”

“But you don’t think he knows about your crush.”

“Yeah. I really don’t.”

She sighed and stared into the distance. After a long moment of contemplation, she shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be so many things.”

“I know! I think I’m going to just wait until the offseason to figure it out.”

“Okay. Well, I’m just a text away. Tell me if anything changes.” She leaned down to kiss him obnoxiously on his eye.

“Stop it, Gia! So, do I get to hear about your personal life?”

“You already said ‘no’ to Amyloid-beta proteins, so I guess not.”

“Ugh. You are the worst.”

***

Gia stayed for the whole series against the Coyotes. It was so nice, like being in high school again, when they would hang out in her dorm room all the time. They didn’t talk much, but Derek zoned out as she read biology papers and watched movies on his TV.

It was a relief to have some space from the team. The series against the Coyotes was not going well. They lost the first three games and just squeaked out a win in overtime in the fourth. Everyone was mad. At each other, at themselves. Even after their win, the locker room was quiet. Bittle had to talk them up for fifteen minute just to get anyone to make a sound.

Chris was taking it especially hard, blaming himself for the losses. After games, he stood in the shower too long. Sometimes in their room he gave Derek strange, sad looks. Derek tried to tell him he was great, that this was just a slump, but that only seemed to make Chris sadder.

The final loss against Coyotes was brutal. A loss in double overtime. Derek left the ice tired in his very soul. It was so horrible, packing up their gear, knowing this was it. He wasn’t going to be back here with these guys for months, and for some it would be the last time he played with them, ever.

He’d packed his notebook in his duffel bag, just in case he needed to burn off some steam, and while he looked for his change of clothes, it fell onto the floor. It opened to his Valentine, from Sierpinski’s young daughter.

His chest felt tight and tender. He couldn’t believe it was over. This amazing team.

“Guys? Hey, um, sorry to interrupt, but I’ve gotta say something,” Derek said, trying to talk loud, even though his voice was suddenly thick.

The locker room quieted. Chris was looking up at him with utter focus. Somewhere, Eric’s voice said, “What is it, Nursey?”

Derek cleared his throat. “When I got traded, it was probably the worst day of my life. I’ve told some of you about it, but the team in Montreal was not good for me. Though I didn’t know it then, they had been treating me badly for a while.

“And when I got traded, a lot of bad stuff about the team came out at once, stuff that I hadn’t known about. And it hurt so much. It made me lose a lot of faith. In myself, in hockey. I wondered if I should just give up and leave the league.”

He heard a lot of sympathetic groans from around the room.

“But you guys have been so amazing. You have welcomed me onto this team, and made me feel so at home. Being a black player in this league often means not always getting to be yourself with the people who matter most in your life, but I have never felt so right on a team as I have with you guys.

“And even though this season didn’t end the way we wanted, playing with you guys has been the best. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. So, thank you.” Derek sat down and stared at the floor.

He heard a soft sound next to him. He looked up. Chris had tears down his cheeks. “Oh, Derek!” Then he grabbed Nursey in a tight hug.

Adam yelled, “GROUP HUG!” and the whole team converged on him and Chris, hugging and sniffling and saying they loved him, too.

When they finally broke apart, other members of the team talked about what the Sharks meant to them. By the end, they were passing around rolls of toilet paper to sop up their tears. Derek felt oddly buoyant.

Gia gave him a big hug when he got home.

“I’m sorry, Derek. You guys were so great.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m okay.” And he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: medical examination, mention of concussion protocol, mention of minor hockey injuries, mentions of racism, intense emotional scenes
> 
> \-----------
> 
> Fuck yeah happiness! This is my indulgent, End Of Inspirational Sports Film chapter, and I will not apologize.
> 
> Also, I know mutual pining is usually a little different than this, but personally I find emotional repression to be nothing but Pain and Suffering (and yet I keep doing it???) so these boys are getting put through The Wringer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LOVE!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes at the end

Derek woke up to a very mysterious text from Chris Chow: _my apartment NOW!!!!!!_ Mercifully followed by,  _(everything ok! but hURRY!)_

Derek groaned and checked the time. It was nine in the morning. He texted back, _this better be worth it. my trainer said I could sleep until 11_

Chris just texted him back, _worth it!!!!_

Derek stuck some bread in the toaster and wondered what Chris was so excited about. Maybe he’d found a new taco place. Or he’d finally gotten the full set of _The Last Airbender_ DVDs delivered.

 _Or maybe_ , came a miserable thought from the back of his brain, _he’s going to introduce you to the girl of his dreams._

Derek had overheard Adam and Justin gossiping about Chris at the end of season party. From the way they talked, they definitely believed Chris had some kind of romantic thing happening. A girl he liked. Derek was not convinced. Surely Chris would have told him something like that. They were friends. Best friends.

His eyes stung at the thought. He rubbed his face and stared at his toast, forcing himself to think about his diet plan. He ought to put something on the toast, since his dietician wanted him to calorie dump. Except his stomach suddenly felt too sick to eat anything.

The walk to Chris’s place felt painfully long, yet when he was outside the door, he stood there staring. Finally, after five minutes of stalling, he forced himself to step forward and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

The door opened almost instantly. “Derek!” Chris was grinning maniacally, hopping up and down. “Guess why I asked you to come!”

“Um, you fixed the plumbing.”

“Yes! But no! Not why!”

“You…finally got a cat?”

“Good guess, but no! You’ll never get it, so I’ll tell you! But you can’t tell _anyone_. No one on the team. Not even your sister. I’m only allowed to show this to one person.” Chris took a huge, dramatic breath. “It turns out that when you are gonna be on the cover of _NHL 23_ , they send you…this!” Chris pulled out a white, video game-sized box with the words _Advance Copy for C.C._

It was literally the most awesome thing Derek had ever seen with his two eyes. “Bro! Bro! What? Are you kidding me? Are you actually kidding me?”

“Get in here, dude! I’ve got two-player up already!”

They curled up together on the couch with Mako and did nothing but play _NHL 23_ for hours. The game was fucking incredible, but more than that it was amazing to just be chilling with Chris, chirping and laughing. It seemed like the weirdness at the end of the season was gone. Like they were going to be okay.

At least, until Derek’s stomach rumbled. He stood up to go make nachos in Chris’s kitchen, and when he looked back, Chris had an intense, thoughtful look on his face.

“Chris, you okay?”

Chris bit his lip. “Um, could we talk?”

“What about?”

“I’ll come with you into the kitchen.”

Derek’s heart suddenly felt heavy as a stone. He mindlessly took out cheese and chips and refried beans and mechanically started to make nachos. He could feel Chris staring at him from across the kitchen. Derek’s throat was so dry, he didn’t think he could speak.

“Derek,” Chris spoke haltingly, “I think. Um. I think I need some, um, time. Of us, like, maybe not hanging out.”

Derek dropped the can opener. “What?”

“It’s not your fault! I’m so sorry. It’s me, it’s all me—I just need time to figure some things out and everything will be okay. I promise!”

“What do you need to figure out, Chris? What’s wrong?”

Chris opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. Derek wondered if he’d somehow made him angry, until he saw that Chris’s eyes were shining with tears. Without thought, Derek crossed the kitchen and gathered Chris in his arms.

Chris hugged him back fiercely. They stood quietly for a moment, squeezing each other as if afraid of being torn apart. Derek felt hot tears run down his cheeks, though he couldn’t tell whose they were.

“Chris,” he murmured, “why do you want to stop hanging out?”

“I don’t,” Chris mumbled into Derek’s shoulder. “I really, really don’t!”

Derek pulled away to look into Chris’s red, tearful face. “Then tell me what’s wrong and we’ll figure it out.”

Chris’s hands tightened on his waist. It was only because Derek was so close that he could hear Chris say, “But what if you hate me?”

“I could never hate you. Never never. We are friends for life.”

Chris stared at him for a long, shaking moment, then nodded. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Derek, I like you. I like you so much. Which, like, of course. You’re my best friend. But I also, um, have, like, non-friendly feelings. Like, um, _feelings_.” Chris bit his lip. “Um, yeah?”

Derek felt like he was made of glass. As if the slightest breath of wind might topple him. “You mean, romantic feelings?”

Chris nodded at his feet. Derek gripped Chris’s shoulders to keep balance.

“Chris,” Derek whispered, throat too tight to speak aloud, “look at me.”

He peered up with his dark, shining eyes, tears hanging from his lashes. “Yeah?”

Derek loved him so much. His hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. His cheeks flushed sweetly pink. His wide, trusting gaze.

Derek leaned close and, as delicately, as softly as he could, pressed a feather of a kiss to Chris’s lips.

When he pulled away, Chris was staring at him with his mouth agape. He whispered “Derek. Oh my gosh, really? Do you mean that?”

Derek nodded. He had no words. It was enough to watch Chris become transported with delight, his beautiful smile returning like the new day.

“Oh, wow!” Chris breathed, full of light, “Can I kiss you again?”

They lost an immeasurable amount of time kissing against Chris’s kitchen counter. They didn’t part until Derek’s stomach made a loud grumble, and Chris ordered him to eat some corn chips. Derek negotiated so he could eat corn chips while curled against Chris’s chest on the couch. He had never been so comfortable.

He must have fallen asleep because he woke from a doze to find himself still cradled in Chris’s arms. Chris was watching him with a soft smile.

“Hi,” Derek grumbled.

“You know, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Chris said, as if continuing a conversation, “And the funniest person I’ve ever met. And the sweetest man in the whole wide world.”

In his sleepy stupor, Derek just stared back, slack jawed.

“It’s such a relief to say it,” Chris said, “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”

“Me, too, baby.”

Chris’s eyes grew wide. “Call me ‘baby’ again.”

Derek felt like his heart might burst with joy. “Baby baby baby. You’re my baby.”

“And you’re mine!” Chris pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re my…honeybee! Or my starflower! Or my little melon! What do you like?”

“I dunno. I like all of them.” He nestled into Chris’s chest. “Just keep holding me, baby, okay?”

Chris gave him a little sunbeam of a laugh. “As long as you want, honeybee.” Chris squeezed Derek warm and close, and Derek knew he would always, always want this, forever and ever and ever. Forever and ever and ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: intense conversation, intense emotions (fear, anxiety, love)
> 
> *********************
> 
> Ahhhh! Thank you for waiting! Endings are so hard!
> 
> Now this story has truly dissolved into a rainbow puddle of emotions. Thank you all so much for reading this, it has been a wonderful journey :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you have thoughts or feelings or reaction gifs for me, I'm also Liminal-Space-LLC on [Tumblr](https://liminal-space-llc.tumblr.com) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/Liminal-Space-LLC)
> 
> <3 <3 <3


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